Villagewood

I guess when someone in your family gets sick, you become reflective. Kiley and I were in Chattanooga for Monday and Tuesday of this week. We happened to be driving past my old high school about the time it was letting out and I pointed the school out to Kiley. I also pointed out the way in which I used to walk home from school (until I could drive, of course). Kiley asked where my home used to be. At that point, it dawned on me she had never seen the house Mommy grew up in. So, we took a detour. I drove back into my old neighborhood, past the ball fields where I used to play softball. I showed Kiley where I used to climb through a hole in the fence of those fields in order to get home. We drove down my street and to my old house 9117 Villagewood Dr. It's the only home I knew as a child. We never moved. My parents built their current house long after I moved out. As I drove by I noticed my little brother's playset from 1989 still in the yard. I remembered how my two brothers camped out in that playset in April of the year my older brother died in May. I noticed the "woods" (a group of pine trees) where we used to climb the trees in our dress up clothes and pretend each tree was our house. It seemed so high up in those days. I noticed the Magnolia tree we planted when I was about 5. I pointed out my old bedroom window to Kiley. She was unamused. Then, I drove around the neighborhood and pointed out all of my friends' houses. As I recalled my entire childhood in those fifteen minutes or so, it dawned on me that my current house is nothing for my daughters save the memories we create there. I realized that I will never recapture the innocence and feeling of "home" we had there on Villagewood. Hmmm, sort of puts things in perspective doesn't it?